


Come Sail Away With Me

by artemisgrace



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Alternate Universe - Cruise Ship, Awkward first meeting, Comedy, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Foolishness, Friendship, Happy Ending, Love, M/M, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sexual Content, alcohol consumption, cruise ship au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 03:10:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15720780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemisgrace/pseuds/artemisgrace
Summary: Levi is a singer in a band, forced through unexpected circumstances to perform on board a luxury cruise ship, which he's not particularly happy about.Eren has been saving up for years to go on this cruise with his friends, and he's determined to have as much fun as is physically possible.Their paths merge when Eren, in a moment of drunken foolishness, climbs up somewhere dangerous to do the Titanic pose, and Levi is the one who saves him from falling overboard. From there, embarrassment and eventual romance bloom.





	Come Sail Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for coming to read my work!
> 
> This fic was commissioned the wonderful Solsermisiere. Thank you so much!

Looking out from under the brim of his baseball hat and over the top of his inconspicuous sunglasses, Levi couldn’t help the heavy, dissatisfied sigh that left his throat as he spotted the throngs of people who, like him, were about to board this excessively large boat. 

It was a glittering beacon of capitalistic profiteering, a vehicle for the sale of overpriced, watery margaritas and teddy bears with the cruise line logo on them to tourists, for relatives they knew well enough to buy souvenirs for, but not well enough to think of something personalized.

A cruise like this would be exciting, perhaps, for someone who didn’t travel as much as he did, but with travel being a major feature of his career, Levi had grown unenthused by the idea of another voyage, especially on the open ocean . . . Fucking giant squids live in there . . . 

“Ugh, remind me why I ever agreed to this?” he muttered to his manager standing beside him, looking exactly as proper and sophisticated in his respectable suit as Levi didn’t in his “celebrity incognito” outfit.

“You agreed because I’m a fantastic manager,” replied the tall blond man at Levi’s side, completely straight-faced as he produced this obvious brag.

“Heh,” Levi chuckled humorlessly, “Sure, Erwin; you mean you owe a cruise line CEO a favor and my band is your sole bargaining chip.”

“Roughly the same as what I said,” Erwin answered, voice flatly polite, but with a small smile on his face betraying his amusement. 

“Tch,” Levi clicked his tongue, caught between letting his mounting displeasure be widely known and keeping his presence under wraps.

He was aware of how much his discomfort gave his manager a giggle; to be frank, he’d giggle himself were their roles reversed, but being at this end still rankled. 

“Alright,” Levi sighed, resigning himself to the inevitability of the situation, “You’d best go introduce me to this Mr. CEO, to whom you’ve sold me, so we can get all this over with.”

“I’m sure it won’t be nearly as trying as you think. This way, Levi,” Erwin directed him, ushering him on board.

***  
At the very same moment, somewhere else in the bustling crowd massing alongside the ship, Eren Jaeger was losing his damn mind.

“Mikasa! Armin!” he shouted to his friends who lagged behind, ogling the cruise ship on which they’d be spending the next week, “Look at how fucking massive this boat is!”

“I think at this scale it’s more of a ship than a boat,” Armin chimed in before conceding, “But you’re right, it’s really big, especially this close.”

The ship loomed high above them, casting a shadow over the dock as it towered into the azure sky like some great fortress, topped with railings like crenellations on what was presumably an observation platform. Looking directly up, Eren had to crane his neck and lean backwards to see to the top, and even then, his vision was be obscured by the rays of sunlight that peeked over it as the sun hit its zenith. 

The smell of salt air filled Eren’s lungs as he inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and reveling in the novelty of being so near the ocean. He could feel the wind like a caress, fluttering through his hair. Not the dense, heavy air of the city, but something lighter, freer, and a complete change of pace. He could feel that this trip was going to be something special.

“Eren,” Mikasa called, glancing down at her watch, “We should get on board and start finding our cabin; the ship will be setting sail soon.”

“Oh, yeah, let’s go!” Eren responded enthusiastically, and, needing no further incentive, leapt forward with gusto, heading for the gang plank without a care in the world, that is, until Armin shouted after him.

“Wait, Eren! Your suitcase!”

Eren paused mid-stride, suddenly realizing that his suitcase was indeed not in his hand, but still sitting forlornly on the rough planks of the dock. Turning back, he ran to quickly snatch it up from the ground, swinging around again to scurry up the gangplank, with Mikasa and Armin close behind.

Upon entering, Eren was struck by his surroundings, the gleam of shiny white surfaces, spotlessly clean, with a red colored carpet thicker than the one he had at home cushioning his steps. He gazed about with his mouth ajar as he walked along, the corridor opening up onto a promenade of sorts, all gleaming floors of patterned tile, railings polished to a mirror-like sheen, and some sort of glittering chandelier made of hundreds of Swarovski crystals hanging in sparkling rows, like a cloud of diamonds above their heads.

He couldn’t help but stare at the sights that greeted him, following largely on auto-pilot as Mikasa brushed past him to lead their small band to the cabin they would be sharing, small and rather plain compared to the glitz and glam of the rest of the ship, but still a big step up from their apartment.

Heading inside and setting his bag down on one of the beds, a thought suddenly occurred to Eren. 

“Hey,” he said, “Where are Connie and Sasha? And Jean and Marco?”

“I think Jean and Marco got a cabin a few doors down from us; they’re probably in there right now,” Armin supplied helpfully, already setting about fluffing the pillows.

“And Connie and Sasha?”

“Well,” Mikasa began, whipping her phone out of her pocket and lighting up the screen, “They’re supposed to be next to us, but I got a text about half an hour ago from Connie, telling me in all caps to ‘not let the ship sail off without them,’ so I’d say it’s about fifty-fifty whether or not they get here in time.”

“And how soon are we supposed to set sail?” Armin asked, voice displaying a level of concern.

“Eight minutes from now,” Mikasa answered, looking up from the clock on her phone with a blank expression, evidently unsurprised.

“Oh shit,” Eren supplied.

No sooner were the words spoken than a tousled head of brown hair popped in through their cabin door.

“Heard y’all talking shit,” Sasha accused, grinning wide at them until the moment that someone crashed into her back, sending her tumbling forward.

“Ouf! Oh, hey guys!” Connie greeted them, none the worse for wear for the collision.

“You made it!” Eren shouted, rushing forward to hug the both of them.

“Did you think we wouldn’t?” Sasha gasped in false shock, “Eren, you wound us!”

“I doubted we’d make it too, to be honest,” Connie admitted in Eren’s defense, “And I was the one driving, so I oughta know.”

The pinging of a cell phone drew their attention and they turned to look at Mikasa as she examined her phone again.

“Marco is wondering whether we’re all going on deck to wave goodbye or not,” she explained to the massing friend group crowded into the cabin.

“Wave goodbye to who?” Connie asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion.

“I don’t know, the whole of creation maybe, but we’re going!” Sasha announced, grabbing Connie to pull him out of the room and to the next cabin, “Tell Marco we’ll meet you all there once we’ve put our stuff down!”

“Well, let’s go,” Mikasa said, shrugging, heading for the door and trusting the other two to follow.

***

Up on deck, Eren was struck all over again by the wonder of his current circumstances. From here, he had a bird’s eye view of the ocean, able to look down upon the rolling waves, curling gently towards the shore in the the cool blues, greens, and purples of a beautiful painting, or perhaps even a stained-glass window. The sun shone upon the water, the surface of it splitting the sunlight into millions of tiny fragments, glittering with each movement of the waves and sending up an almost blinding glare.

As they gathered together at the railing of the observation deck, waving down to the people who remained on the dock as the ship began to move further out into the waters, Eren neglected to wave in favor of staring out to the horizon. It became hazy as it stretched into the distance, and he found it difficult to tell where the ocean ended and the sky began, just a wall of azure blue. 

Finally tearing his eyes away from the water to glance about at the other passengers, Eren found his eye caught by a man standing a few yards away, leaning against the railing with a cigarette held loosely between his fingers, looking out over the ocean.

He looked familiar somehow . . .

At that moment, a woman shepherding three unruly, but clearly overjoyed, children passed in front of Eren, blocking his view of the oddly familiar stranger. He stepped back and around the boisterous family, but by the time he re-established his line of sight, the man had gone. 

“Hey, Eren!” he heard Connie call to him, “You know what time it is?”

“Uh,” Eren hesitated, “Like one, I think?”

“No, no, no,” Connie interrupted, shaking his head, “I think you’ll find that it’s five o’clock somewhere, and that can only mean one thing: ‘tis time for margaritas!”

A roar of approval rose up from the group and Eren joined in with gusto, letting the mood take him, quickly forgetting his curiosity about the stranger as he followed them all towards the bar.

***

“Eren!” Jean slurred out, as they approached the front of the ship, a little hazy from a few drinks in the bar and clearly at the point of impaired judgement, “You should climb up on the railing and do the Titanic pose!”

“Nah, you don’t tell me what to do,” Eren mumbled back, himself a bit unsteady on his feet and even more unsteady in his reasoning.

“You scared?”

“Nooo, you just ain’t the boss of me,” he responded, more irritated than usual, by Jean’s smirk.

“You’re definitely scared!” Jean giggled obnoxiously, leaning on a rather unfortunate Marco, whose attempts to reign in his boyfriend were going less than ideally.

“I’ll fuckin’ show you,” Eren spat back, reaching for the ladder to the railing, beginning to haul himself up.

“Eren, no, get down from there,” Mikasa demanded, more than a little put out by her companions’ drunken shenanigans, not entirely sober herself but still reasonable “You’ll get hurt.”

“Um, Eren, don’t you think that’s a bit high . . ?” Armin said tentatively, concern coloring his voice as he watched Eren go higher than generally advisable, especially when drunk, and especially this close to the open ocean.

“Eren, seriously, get down!” Mikasa called, herself starting to lose composure as Eren got further away from the group and closer to the railing.

He cleared the ladder and found himself next to the railing itself, a foot away from a long drop into dark waters, but the alcohol in his system combined with his own foolish determination compelled him to ignore the shouts.

“Eren!” came a chorus of voices, everyone trying to call him back, but they felt curiously distant in his drunken state, despite even Jean starting to call him back.

“Eren, no!” Armin yelled as Eren reached the railing, starting to haul himself onto it, his goal nearly accomplished . . .

That is, until he found himself suddenly pulled backwards by a pair of warm, muscular arms as someone yanked him away from the railing and down to the boards of the deck.

“Wha?” he spluttered, confused and out of breath after being tossed to the ground

“The fuck were you thinking?” asked a deep, slightly husky voice, and as Eren’s swimming vision came to focus, he realized that he was looking into the face of the stranger he’d remarked upon earlier.

Wow, he’s . . . pretty . . .

“I said,” the man repeated, “What were you thinking? You could’ve fallen to your fucking death!”

“Huh? Oh . . .” Eren breathed out, the shock of the last few seconds starting to sober him up.

“Yeah, ‘oh’, you could’ve died,” the man spat out, standing up before leaning down over Eren to haul him upright.

“Sorry,” Eren muttered, starting to feel distinctly embarrassed and more than a tad ashamed.

“Tell that to your friends,” the stranger said, tilting his head to gesture to the others in Eren’s group, who stood at the bottom of the ladder, watching the exchange in astonished silence.

“C’mon,” the man continued, “let’s get you back to them.”

Eren allowed himself to be maneuvered down the ladder until his feet once again met the main deck, leaning on the strange man as they walked over to his friends. Mikasa stepped out to meet them and took Eren’s weight upon herself as the man passed him over, nodding her thanks for Eren’s safe return.

“Thanks,” she told the man, holding Eren upright.

“Just look after your friend,” he told her, looking to the others as well as he spoke, before returning to meet Eren’s eyes, “And put this dumbass to bed before he gets himself killed.”

“We will, thank you sir!” Armin thanked him as he turned and began to walk away.

The stranger hummed his acknowledgment but otherwise didn’t respond, simply continuing to stroll off into the night, pulling a carton out of his pocket and extricating a cigarette.

“Uh,” Jean began sheepishly, “Sorry, Eren. I didn’t mean for it to go that far . . .”

Eren heard him but didn’t respond, mesmerized by the retreating steps of the strange man who’d saved him from his own idiocy. His thoughts were scattered, but maintained a distinct theme . . . The stranger had a nice butt . . . And nice hair . . . and nice eyes . . .

“Um . . .” Marco spoke up, hesitant, “I think . . .”

“What is it?” Sasha asked, everyone turning to look at him.

“I might be wrong,” he went on, “but wasn’t that that guy? From that band?”

The whole group fell quiet for a moment.

“Oh shit,” Connie said, breaking the silence, “I think you’re right. That was Levi Ackerman!”

“Levi Ackerman?” Armin tilted his head in confusion.

“Come on, Armin,” Connie told him, gesturing wildly with his hands, “He’s the frontman of ODM! They were on TV like three days ago! I know you saw it, cuz I texted you about it.”

“Oh . . . Oh wow, yeah . . . it’s that guy . . .” Armin muttered, recognition dawning on his face.

“Oh god,” Eren gagged, the embarrassment he’s felt intensifying with the revelation of his savior’s identity and turning into a molten, churning ball in his stomach, “I think I’m gonna be sick . . .”

***  
The hangover the next morning was arguably the worst Eren had ever experienced. 

It wasn’t the pounding headache, the dry mouth, or the nausea that made it so completely awful, no, it was the bone-deep embarrassment that had begun to feel like a permanent fixture of his life.

Not only had he gotten drunk, but he’d stupidly decided to climb up onto something that would kill him were he to fall, and he’d had to be saved by an extremely attractive stranger . . . who turned out to be the frontman of one of Eren’s favorite bands. 

When he’d first spotted Levi on the ship, sheer disbelief that he could possibly be seeing a celebrity in the flesh had kept him from recognizing the singer, and later, in his intoxicated state, Eren had been mentally incapable of realizing who is savior was. Now though, in the light of day, Eren could remember looking up from where he lay sprawled on his back, into the face of Levi Ackerman.

And Eren felt like a complete walking disaster.

It took some reassurance from Armin and convincing on the part of Mikasa, but by evening they’d managed to get Eren out of bed and ready to continue with their vacation as planned. When it came to the ODM concert though, on the ship’s stage, Eren vetoed the idea of standing close to the stage, unable to handle the thought of coming face to face with Levi again after what had happened. Instead, he, Mikasa, and Armin watched from a distance, sitting on deck chairs on a deck overlooking the stage, while the others went ahead to crowd the stage. He wasn’t going to miss his chance to see ODM live, but he felt more comfortable watching them from where they couldn’t see him.

Over the rest of the voyage, Eren had a couple close brushes with Levi: almost bumping into him when leaving a public restroom, going to get candy from a vending machine only to realize the man standing next to it, eating a bag of Skittles, was Levi. It felt almost like fate was throwing at each other . . . and were the situation any different, Eren would love the opportunity to brush elbows with Levi, but after the man witnessed him being a drunk idiot, Eren would rather hide . . . like, forever . . .

He managed to put his embarrassment past him enough to properly enjoy his vacation for the most part, hanging out poolside with his friends, eating overpriced seafood, and consuming a frankly absurd amount of cotton candy. Apart from the stuff with Levi, the trip was everything he had hoped for, and as it came to an end, he resolved to start saving up for his next cruise.

***  
Levi, for his own part, spent the rest of the cruise performing, signing a few autographs, and looking for the man he’d hauled away from the railing that night. 

At first, Levi had been annoyed; saving a drunken fool from falling into the ocean was a bit of a bother, and he’d been forced to abandon the cigarette he’d been smoking when he’d seen the young man climbing the railing, in favor of rushing to pull him down. However, his annoyance faded as he got a good look at the guy. Probably a college student on his first grown-up vacation, the man, Eren, as Levi had gathered from the man’s screaming friends, was striking. It was his eyes, mostly. They’d glittered in the starlight like precious stones, an unusual mixture of green, grey-blue, and gold, the colors reminiscent of the ocean itself in the waning light of sunset. 

Levi had had to shake himself from his staring in order to speak, telling the kid off for doing something so dangerous and bringing him back to his distraught companions. 

Maybe that made him shallow, taking such interest just over someone’s looks, but Levi couldn’t help his fascination, and he’d never been the type to deny himself an opportunity when he found one. Call it foolish or call it fate, Levi just felt drawn to him in a way that defied explanation. He spent the next few days trying to meet Eren, to talk to him, to establish some kind of rapport . . . but he found his efforts in vain. Every time they’d bump into each other, Eren would skitter away, like a mouse fleeing a cat.

Was he just embarrassed over the awkward meeting they’d had, or did he just not want anything to do with Levi? After the second time Eren bolted at the very sight of him, Levi decided he’d better take the hint, so he stopped trying to find the man, quashing his own disappointment.

It still didn’t stop him from looking out over the crowd as he sang though, searching for those glittering, multicolored eyes . . .

***

Life at home was a bit of a let down after their trip, but only for a couple of days, just until Eren got back into the swing of regular daily life. And life was indeed regular . . . for a couple days. 

But then he got a fateful call from a concerned Marco, telling him to check the tabloid papers. Eren had been confused, wondering why Marco thought he’d have any interest in the tabloids . . . until he saw it. A photo of himself and Levi. 

It had been taken at roughly the moment that Levi had pulled him down from the balcony, but in the photo, it looked like a much more compromising scenario. Eren was on his back on the deck, sitting slightly upright and looking into Levi’s eyes as the man leaned over him, his hands still on Eren’s waist, and the headline read “Lead singer of ODM caught canoodling with unknown man on luxury cruise!” 

Oh god . . .

As if on cue, a sudden flood of texts pinged Eren’s phone: everyone he knew demanding to know if the papers were true.

But one alert was for an email, from someone Eren didn’t recognize, with a subject line reading: “To Mr. Jaeger, concerning the events of the 21st.” The day he’d met Levi . . . 

Eren opened the email and began to read, eyebrows raising as he realized the email was from Levi’s manager’s office, requesting a meeting to discuss the current press fiasco . . . And while the email didn’t exactly say so, Eren got the feeling that the author of the message considered it to be largely, if not entirely, Eren’s fault. Eren couldn’t exactly argue that point.

There was a number for him to call at the bottom of the message, so, swallowing the nervousness that rose in his throat, he dialed and held the phone up to his ear, heart squeezing with anxiety as it rang. After a few moments, he heard the sound of the receiver being picked up and a deep, professional voice began to speak.

“Ah, Mr. Jaeger, I’m glad you gave us a call,” the man, Mr. Smith, greeted him.

“I, uh, got your email,” Eren replied, “But how did you find me?”

“I regret to inform you that you have a Facebook account, Mr. Jaeger. Everyone can find you.”

“Oh, I guess that’s true,” Eren conceded, slightly perturbed.

“But to answer the question you’re no doubt about to ask,” Mr. Smith said, getting down to business, “Levi would like to sit down with you to discuss the approach we’ll be taking toward the current tabloid scandal.”

“He wants to meet me?”

“Yes . . .” Mr. Smith responded, evidently not understanding Eren’s confusion.

“Oh, uh, okay then . . .”

“Excellent, so would you be free this evening?”

“What? This evening?” Eren asked, surprised.

“Yes, Levi is in town right now. We can send you a car, say, in about one hour?”

“Really? I mean, okay, I don’t have plans today, so . . .”

“Good, then we’ll see you in a little over an hour. Goodbye.”

“Uh, bye?” Eren mumbled, confused, as the call ended. 

He shot off a text to Mikasa and Armin, who were out, updating them on the bizarre developments of the situation, then sat in a stupor to wait for the car, feeling like he’d found himself in a strange dream . . .

All too soon the sound of the doorbell rang through the apartment, calling Eren to the door, which he opened as if in a trance.

“Mr. Jaeger?” a man in a respectable dove-grey suit asked, smiling politely.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Eren answered, turning around to lock the door and, as he turned back, finding himself faced with the man in the suit, presumably a chauffeur, holding the door of a shiny, black car open for him.

“Oh, thanks,” Eren expressed his somewhat surprised gratitude, clambering into the vehicle and looking about at the dark leather interior as he buckled his seatbelt, the man closing the door behind him.

This was certainly fancier than any Uber Eren had taken before, he thought as they began to move, making their way through town towards the higher-end neighborhoods. Apartment buildings gave way to offices, then to suburbs and finally to large, elegant homes, of the type one might possibly call mansions. It was at one of these stately homes that the car came to a halt, the chauffeur parking the vehicle, then smoothly stepping out to open Eren’s door for him.

He couldn’t help but stare as he was guided to the front door. The house was what Eren would describe as a modernist, minimalist interpretation of a mansion, large, elegant, but without much in the way of frills and excess. No pretense.

The chauffeur knocked and the door was promptly opened by a man that he recognized from the internet as Erwin Smith, Levi Ackerman’s manager.

“Ah, Mr. Jaeger, thank you for joining us,” he said, a pleasant smile spreading across his features as he stepped aside, ushering Eren into the foyer. 

The interior was pretty much what Eren expected based upon the exterior, all off-white tones and dove-greys, hardwood floors of light wood, sharp corners and minimalist, but no doubt expensive, decor. It was all very clean, both in terms of tidiness and stylistic elements. 

Mr. Smith led him up a set of stairs and into what appeared to be the cleanest dining room Eren had ever been in. Sitting at the table, fiddling with his phone, was Levi Ackerman, who looked up as he heard them approach.

“Well, hello again,” Levi greeted him, that same voice Eren remembers hearing through the haze of alcohol.

Levi looked nicer than was frankly fair, looking exceptionally put together even though he’d been lounging in a simple black tee shirt and dark, ripped jeans. He wasn’t even wearing shoes, just black socks, but Eren still felt like he’d fallen behind in terms of fashionable appearance, still underdressed.

“Um, hi,” Eren greeted him back, a hot blush sweeping across his cheeks as he averted his eyes, suddenly fixating on the carpet.

It was white and fluffy. Not that interesting, but more comfortable to look at than Levi’s face.

“I apologize for bringing you here if you were busy, or if you’d rather not see me. I just thought I ought to consult you, since this scandal involves the both of us,” Levi said, bringing a hand up to ruffle his hair in a gesture somewhat reminiscent of . . . exasperation? 

No . . .

Embarrassment?

“No, it’s fine, I’m not busy,” Eren began to babble before something about what Levi had said struck him, “Wait, you thought I wouldn’t come?”

“To be honest, with the way you scarpered at the sight of me on the ship, I figured you might not want to. Especially with what the tabloids are saying about us.”

“Oh my god, you saw me?” Eren gasped, mortified that Levi had witnessed his hurried exits.

“Well, I was looking for you, so yes,” Levi replied matter-of-factly, as if it were a phrase Eren really should have expected him to say.

“Looking for me? Why?”

“Heh,” Levi chuckled softly, “I’d hoped to perhaps ask you to dinner.”

“Me?” Eren spluttered, mystified, “Dinner? With me? But you saw me acting like a drunk idiot! Why would you want to have dinner with me?”

“You caught my eye,” Levi shrugged, head tilting to the side, “What else can I say?”

“Wha . . . “ Eren breathed, losing hold of the word halfway through as his eyes fairly glazed over.

There’s no accounting for taste, I guess, he thought as his mind spun with the revelation of Levi’s genuine interest.

“Excuse me,” he heard Mr. Smith say from over his shoulder, “I was given to understand that the purpose of this meeting was to formulate a response to the press that would keep all parties happy.”

“Plans change, Erwin,” Levi said, looking to Eren, “but that’s really up to Eren. What do you say? The invitation to dinner is still open, if you’d like to.”

“Like,” Eren swallowed, blinking his eyes as if to wake himself from a daydream, “a date?”

“Yeah, like a date,” Levi smiled, “We can hold off talking to the press for now and just . . . see how it goes? How ‘bout it?”

This couldn’t be real . . . Eren had had a low-key crush on Levi for years, and here he was, having seen Eren being a drunken mess, and still asking him out . . . it couldn’t be real, but it was . . .

“I m-mean,” Eren stuttered, heart fluttering in his chest, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he affirmed, shyly looking up from under his eyelashes to meet Levi’s gaze, “I’d love to.”

***  
Two years later:

Levi had insisted on doing something special tonight, and although Eren would have been just as happy staying home with popcorn and a movie, he’d had no objection to the idea of going out for dinner. 

He hadn’t quite expected this though; the restaurant must have been old, with the high vaulted glass ceiling and multiple crystalline chandeliers of late Victorian era excess, candlelight glittering off of the individual crystals and shining off of the glass ceiling to form a warm, pleasant glow, as cozy as it was sophisticated. The wait staff were all clad in full black and white tuxedos, but thankfully the other patrons, while fashionable, weren’t quite as dressed up, so Eren was spared from feeling out of place as Levi gave the man just inside the door his name for the reservation and they were led through the great dining room. 

Eren expected them to be led to some private table at the back, knowing Levi’s preferences, but was surprised to find that they bypassed the main dining room entirely, heading down a small hallway, at the end of which their guide opened an inconspicuous door. It was a private dining room, and the table inside was already set for two, candles lit, with a bouquet of roses in the center, their scent perfuming the small, intimate setting. 

“Wow, Levi!” he exclaimed once they’d finished dinner and dessert, having been left all to themselves once again, “This is amazing! Thank you so much, this is so much more than I could ever have dreamed of.”

“I’m glad you like it, love,” Levi said, smiling at his boyfriend of two years, before shuffling uncharacteristically awkwardly in his seat, “Actually, Eren, I have something else for you . . .”

“Oh, Levi, I don’t need anything else, this evening was perfect!” Eren insisted, gesturing to the room and the now empty plates upon which their fancy dinner had been served. 

“Well, it’s sort of for me too . . .

“Oh, okay . . .” Eren replied, growing confused.

“I don’t want to embarrass you by getting down on my knees and making a big scene,” Levi began, reaching one hand over to clasp Eren’s, and the other into his jacket pocket, retrieving a small box.

He flipped open the lid of the box and Eren gasped as he saw a thin platinum ring on a cushion of black silk, with three small diamonds embedded in the band.

“Eren Jaeger, will you marry me?” Levi asked, a smile on his face and a mixture of nervousness and pure affection in his eyes.

No sooner were the words said than Eren leapt out of his chair and tackled Levi in a crushing embrace.

“Of course I will, Levi! Of course I will!” he shouted, grinning from ear to ear, before crashing his lips against Levi’s in an enthusiastic kiss.

He kissed like a drowning man kisses the cup of water that will save his life, for that’s what it indeed what it felt like Levi had been for him. Apart from the literal sense, in that Levi had quite probably saved Eren from untimely death or injury on the ship that night, apart from that, Eren felt a happiness, a passion that he wouldn’t have thought possible before they met. And he could be fairly sure that the same went for Levi, if the way he kissed back were any indication at all. 

“What a romantic you are, Levi,” Eren chuckled as he pulled away, nuzzling his face against Levi’s cheek.

“But,” he said, voice dropping low, almost to a whisper, as he looked Levi in the eyes, “Right now you need to call for the check, because I’m taking you out of here, and I’m gonna go to town on you.”

“Fuck,” Levi swore, before turning towards the door of the private dining room, “Check, please!”

***

“Hold on, lemme get the keys,” Levi panted in between kisses, fumbling in his pockets for the key fob even as he neglected to release his other hand’s hold on Eren’s waist.

A “beep-beep” sound issued from the vehicle, echoing through the parking garage, to announce that it was now unlocked, and Eren wasted absolutely no time in opening the back door and shoving Levi inside, crawling in after him and shutting the door behind them. 

“So,” he said, starting immediately on removing Levi’s shirt, “Shall we hyphenate our last names?”

“Sure,” Levi gasped as Eren divested him of his shirt, only to lean forward and start depositing dozens of burning, open-mouthed kisses over his neck and chest, “Whatever you want, baby.”

“I’d love it,” Levi could feel the words being traced on the skin of his stomach as Eren’s attention moved lower, to Levi’s belt.

I’d love it too, Levi thought for the brief moment before rational thought left him. He’d love to share a name with this strange, unreasonably lovable, foolish, beautiful man, and now that he’d asked the question, he could . . . he would, once they set a date . . .

Warm hands caressed his skin and it felt like a prayer, like something spiritual, even though, in its simplest form, this was just two people fooling about in the back of a car. It felt like prayer nonetheless; Levi had never been much of one for things like religion or spirituality, but this was the closest, he knew, that he’d ever need to get to it. Just this, touching each other, breathing each other in, whispering sweet words of affection into each other’s ears, this was the best it ever needed to be, the best it could be. 

He felt a certain merciful absence of pressure as Eren undid his belt and opened the zip on his trousers, and that was something about this too. As well as the spirituality, there was carnality, a simple, pure thirst for physical sensation. Advertised as sin, it fell short of the definition. It was anything but sinful, although the notion could sometimes contribute to the thrill; it felt like the physical manifestation of the passion that sustained him, painting out the strokes of his affections onto the canvas of his lover’s form. 

“Don’t I get to do something?” he asked with a smile, reaching a hand down to cup between Eren’s thighs.

“Hahh,” Eren sighed, rolling his hips down to meet Levi, “You treated me tonight, I thought I’d treat you.”

“Oh, this is treat enough,” Levi assured him, leaning up to seize Eren’s lips again, tasting him, breathing him in in the only way that could satisfy, but that he could truly never get enough of.

Eren had a way of completely absorbing him in desire, in thought, in action, a way of enchanting him so entirely that he hardly felt like a separate entity at all, but rather half of a whole being, half of the thing that he and Eren were together. Fantasies, though fun, never did it justice, and while they sometimes, in the last two years, had experimented, tried to spice things up, Levi would be perfectly content were they to do nothing but this for the rest of their lives. 

This was just two halves of a whole trying to come together, and with every passing day in each other’s lives, Levi could feel them getting closer. 

“Fuck!” Levi exclaimed, feeling Eren’s grin against his lips as his hand wandered teasingly beneath the fabric of Levi’s trousers and into his underwear, gripping him hard, with little attempt to tease, only to please. 

“I love that I get to see you like this, Levi,” Eren moaned, rolling his hips down into his partner again, “To think I tried to run from you after we first met.”

“Ohhh,” Levi groaned before pulling himself together enough to respond, rocking his hips up into Eren’s hand as he did so, “You saying that if you’d known we’d get engaged and have sex in a car, you’d not have bolted?”

“Oh, I’d still bolt, I’d just bolt towards you.”

“And jump my bones?”

“Oh, at the very least,” Eren said, wriggling further back on the seats with a cheeky grin until his face was level with Levi’s cock.

“Oh god,” Levi moaned as Eren set to work reducing him to naught but shuddering, shivering pleasure.

It didn’t matter how many times they did this; it was a marvel every time. Not only the sensations of it, which drowned him with their potency, but the very fact that this was happening. Levi hadn’t expected to find love, not only on that fateful cruise, but in general. He’d had relationships before, more than a few, but love, real love, had eluded him every time. They’d ended amicably, but they’d ended sooner, rather than later, as the initial passion died and a sort of hollowness remained, a distinct lack that he felt with every kiss that grew grey.

He’d assumed that was just how he was, who he was as a person . . . until Eren. Eren’s company, his kisses, his laugh, they never faded to grey, but remained as vibrant as ever, if not even brighter, as time passed. He was greedy for Eren’s touch, for the sound of his voice, even for the way he hogged the blankets at night, leaving Levi’s body chilly, but his heart warm and fond.

It was almost desperate, the greed he felt, a constant aching need, but one that he’d never in his life wish himself free of.

“Eren, wait,” he panted out, the feel of Eren’s tongue and warm breath bringing him fast to the brink, “I wanna touch you too.”

Eren pulled away with a wet pop and a knowing smirk, eyes betraying the profound fondness underlying his mischievous smile.

“Then touch me, Levi,” he murmured, crawling back up until they were once again face to face, “I’m all yours.”

Levi needed no other incentive, immediately moving to undo Eren’s own zipper and take him in hand, drinking in the sound of his sighs, and kissing every beautiful moan from his mouth. Reaching one hand around to grab Eren’s backside, Levi pulled him impossibly closer, until they were almost sharing the same space. With a groaning utterance of “I love you,” he took them both in hand and began to stroke them in time with their panting breaths and moans, whispering all of the things he felt, everything he wanted Eren to know about how blessed he was into his lover’s -now fiancé’s- ear. 

“Oh, fuck! Levi!” Eren’s voice began to raise in pitch as he started to chant Levi’s name and a chorus of loving words in response, and Levi could feel them approaching the edge, about to fall over the precipice together.

Together. As it should always be.

“I’m so glad -ah!- so glad I met you,” Levi bit out from between his teeth as the tension reached its peak, and as he lost control, he could feel Eren do the same.

They did nothing for a few moments after, nothing but hold each other and listen in the quiet as their breaths slowed. 

“I’m glad I met you too, Levi,” Eren said, breaking the silence with a whisper heavy with emotion, “I’m so very glad.”

**Author's Note:**

> Y'all got thoughts? I'd love to hear them! Come chat with me in the comments, if you feel so inclined :)


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